The jet on which my father and I had been flying had broken apart in mid air and only a small section at the front of the plane (where my father and I were seated) was left flying. We were able to stand up and walk around in the little section, and somehow we continued to fly. Our situation was quite precarious, however, and I knew we could crash at any time. When I looked out the gapping hole at the back of our section, I saw that our predicament was more complicated than I had at first suspected. About 20 meters behind us was flying another section of the plane which had also survived the break-up. The other section had no power of its own and was being pulled by our section via a single long strand of wire.

Surprisingly, 10-12 people were still alive in the other section. They were milling around the interior of the fuselage, obviously confused by what was happening. Clearly they were completely dependent on the power of our section. If our section failed, the section behind us would also go down.

We couldn't land because we were traveling over the Pacific Ocean and we wouldn't reach land for several days.

***

I was in a house looking at myself in a mirror. The plane had landed safely. Now I could hardly believe that the plane, in its damaged condition, was going to take off again, that it still had another day's journey to complete. This didn't make any sense to me, and I certainly didn't want to board the damaged plane again. I didn't have to go; if I wanted, I could let the plane leave without me. My father also didn't have to go. However all the people on the second section of the plane did have to continue the journey, and they needed my father and me to guide the first section. If my father and I didn't continue on the journey, the people in the rear section would be in dire danger.

As I looked at myself in the mirror, I thought about what a dilemma this was for me: I wasn't accustomed to putting myself out for other people. Here I was now contemplating actually risking my life for others. Clearly, in all probability, I would be killed if I continued on the journey. The idea of dying for other people didn't particularly appeal to me. Nevertheless, I decided to go on the plane. I didn't even know why I was willing to take the risk; but I felt some obligation toward the people in the rear section.

I wanted to make sure I would be warm enough. The first time I had been on the plane, I had become cold. This time I picked up a couple caps with earflaps which I wanted to take with me. I also picked up a gray cap which looked like a gray pilot's cap. I put all three on my head and thought hopefully with all three I should stay warm. I was also wearing several jackets. I had on a blue sports jacket, and over it a couple heavier jackets. I looked a little strange with all the clothes, but looks weren't my most important consideration at the moment.

I also noticed how young I appeared, more like a young black-haired woman than a man. My skin looked particularly soft and clear. What a shame that I would probably soon die.

I would also be needing some money; I stuck some bills into both my shoes, cramming the bills between the sole and the bottom part of the shoe. I stuck a $50 bill into each shoe.

When I was finally ready to go, I picked up a paper which contained information about one of my old legal clients. Somehow this client had something to do with the people on the rear section of the plane. I recalled that the client's first name was "Danny" but I couldn't remember his last name. I recalled that the name sounded like something "strong," and I finally concluded his full name was "Danny Powers."

I recalled I had defended Danny in a criminal case in which he had been charged with possession of cocaine. I had lost the trial and the judge had sentenced Danny to 10 years of probation. I had always regretted losing that particular case. Now the court was trying to revoke Danny's probation and send him to jail. Clearly I would now have to do something to try to keep Danny from going to jail.

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